loup blanc
moved
Thread between myself (loup blanc) and Isthill !
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Realistic or Modern Path to Survival
- Thread starter loup blanc
- Start date
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- Tags
- apocalypse dystopian zombies
loup blanc
moved
Name ; Parker Finley
Nickname(s) ; Park
Gender ; Female
Age ; Twenty-four (24)
Species ; Human
Height ; 5'6" (167cm)
Weight ; 108lbs (49kg)
Handedness ; Ambidextrous
Weapon ; Tends to go with melee weapons (like a baseball bat or such) because, due to her inability to see, she's too afraid of shooting someone on accident
Last edited:
Kaya
Perhaps short of a marble
I am dead, but it's not so bad.
I've learned to live with it.
I've learned to live with it.
- Basics
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Name ; Esra Blackburn
Nickname(s) ; Es, Black, Clawface (from a group of people he trades with regularly)
Gender ; male
Age ; 27 years
Species ; Revenant (Infected, but not showing a full outbreak of the virus.)
Height ; 6'2 ft (189 cm)
Weight ; 165 lbs (75 kg)
Handedness ; left-handed
Weapon ; his trusty curtain rod, as well as his bare hands
- Physiology
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Hair Color ; jet black with a slight, blue hue (somewhat reminiscent of a raven's feathers.)
Eye Color(s) ; used to be chocolate brown. Now they're sulfur yellow.
Skin ; Ashen pale and somewhat transculent
Scar(s) ; Literally everywhere. The most noticeable are the three massive scars on his face.
Style ; whatever he can find really. Usually wears a black coat with a deep hood to hide his face and eyes.
- Personality
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Likes ; food straight from the can. Even before the apocalypse. Exploring, the way nature slowly reclaims the cities, birds. Especially pigeons. Rain.
Dislikes ; loud noises, having to fight zombies for some damn human remains, the urge to groan back at zombies.
Hobbies/Interests ; He actually likes to sing. Gathers medical knowledge whenever he can and sometimes tries out new ways to braid his long hair, when he has nothing else to do.
Phobias/Fears ; claustrophobia, trypanophobia, walking past reflecting surfaces in the dark
Mannerisms ; He has a weird habit of always taking the first step with his left foot. If he'll accidentally use his right foot instead, he'll stop for a second and re-start with his left foot. Playing with his hair. Absentmindedly picking at the scars on his face.
Morality/Ethics ; true neutral personality.
Knowledge ; 8/10 some medical knowledge, great at close-up combat and quite knowledgeable regarding nature. Knows how to manipulate people.
Conceptualization Power ; 9/10 most of the time he will see things through quite easily. He actually loves to analyze interesting concepts.
Motivation ; 6/10 he's a seeker, constantly out to learn more and find some satisfaction and happiness. Even the apocalypse couldn't quiet this weird, inner wistfulness, which sometimes however leads to a kind of glum apathy.
Will to Act ; 6/10 depending very much on the situation. Generally, he will act if it benefits him or the people he cares about. If he doesn't care for someone, he won't break a leg to help.
Agility ; 7/10 quite good. A little jumpy, too.
Offense ; 9/10not very refined, but effective.
Defense ; 5/10 kind of unneeded, as an undead. Most injuries he'll shrug off, so he doesn't care much for personal defense.
Social Skills ; 0-8/10 Meh. He can be a real social butterfly and sweetheart, but his short temper often enough gets the best of him, resulting in him acting painfully blunt and sarcastic.
- History
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text
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Kaya
Perhaps short of a marble
Today was a shambling day. It wasn't something caused by the virus as much as it was a matter of pulling himself together, and today, Esra just didn't really feel like it. If he did, if he watched his body language, facial expression and the way he spoke, he could easily pass as a human; but if he didn't...there wasn't much of a difference between him and the walking corpses. He wasn't decaying, luckily, and compared to them he was a real Mr.Sexy, but the yellow eyes always gave him away. They were like an enormous target painted right into his face.
It was the rule of thumb in this broken world; kill Shamblers and Yelloweyes before they can kill and eat you.
His body count was about the same on both sides, Shamblers and Meatbags. Uh; humans. He never attacked anyone out of instinct or malice, but he wouldn't let anyone kill him, either. Usually, though, he just stole remains of already dead people from Shamblers. There were tastier foods by far, but without some human meat now and then he'd die; if he had to guess it was an enzyme in the human blood that his own body couldn't produce anymore, or something.
Yelloweyes basically were everything that made a zombie dangerous- strong, natural predators, hard to kill, infectious and greatly immune to pain- but had none of their weaknesses. They were intelligent, cunning, they didn't lose limbs and rot and when they felt like it, they embraced their inner monster and went apeshit on everyone and everything in their way.
Zombies were nothing but a host for a parasitic virus.
Revenants had established a symbiosis with it.
A Shambler stared at him blankly as he shuffled by, a half-empty can of ravioli in his right, a spoon in his left hand. Usually, he went to have breakfast on the roof of one of the taller buildings of the wrecked city, but today, he had a lot to do and didn't want to waste any time.
In the worn, dark brown mail bag he was carrying, he had stored several kinds of painkillers, antibiotics and antipyretics, as well as some more specific meds like asthma sprays and anticonvulsants.
There was a small settlement, a group that had found shelter in an old hotel, which he visited once every month to trade meds for wherever he needed at that moment. Today was one of these days.
About two thirds through his three-hour walk there, he passed by the entrance of a subway station, the same as always. And as always, he went down the stairs, followed the half-broken signs that indicated the directions to everything down here, into the ladies' restroom.
The mirrors in the men's restroom were mostly broken, others smeared with waterproof pens, but a mirror was exactly what he needed right now.
The water that left the tap had a sickly, greenish tint, but it would suffice to freshen himself up a little. After he was done washing his face and brushing his hair with a brush that was missing most of its bristles, he braided the sides back and tied everything up in a bun yo make himself look at least a little civilized. Though the massive scars across his face did make it harder.
Last but not least, he fished a small bottle of Tropicamide out of his bag and dripped two drops into each eye.
They reacted immediately, pupils dilating to the point of completely hiding his sulfur yellow irises. It'd last for three, maybe four hours, so he needed to make it quick.
Straightening up, he had a last look at his reflection. Aside from the scars, he looked better than some humans he'd come across.
Four hours later, he was on his way back with a bag full of canned food, some toilet paper, copper wire and a freshly sharpened tip on his trusty curtain rod.
Today was a good day, he concluded, as he greeted a swaying Shambler with a brisk groan. It reacted ten seconds later, oozing black saliva as it blankly stared at him, apparently awestruck by his coordinated movements, and tightened its grip on the graying piece of flesh it was carrying around. The thing was lucky that Shamblers couldn't suffer from food poisoning, else this one would be having a rough week.
And while the dead weren't the most eloquent or inspiring company, Esra felt like not eating alone tonight, so he just took a seat next to the drooling dead guy and fished a protein bar out of his bag.
"Y'know", he said, his voice raspy, "You should really try some hot chilli sauce on that."
The zombie suddenly perked up, and for a second Esra thought it had actually understood him, but then he smelled it, too.
Human.
Only one, if his sense of smell wasn't too confused by the dead's scent of rot, and they were coming closer.
"Nooo", he growled, threateningly pointing one finger at the zombie next to him, but it didn't give a damn and jumped up at an impressive speed.
They were stupid killing machines, of course, but he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't impressed by how their killer instincts kicked them into action.
And then it ran.
It was nothing but instinct that made him chase after it, whether it was his inner predator that got triggered by the sudden movement or something deeper, he couldn't really tell, but it didn't really matter right now.
It was the rule of thumb in this broken world; kill Shamblers and Yelloweyes before they can kill and eat you.
His body count was about the same on both sides, Shamblers and Meatbags. Uh; humans. He never attacked anyone out of instinct or malice, but he wouldn't let anyone kill him, either. Usually, though, he just stole remains of already dead people from Shamblers. There were tastier foods by far, but without some human meat now and then he'd die; if he had to guess it was an enzyme in the human blood that his own body couldn't produce anymore, or something.
Yelloweyes basically were everything that made a zombie dangerous- strong, natural predators, hard to kill, infectious and greatly immune to pain- but had none of their weaknesses. They were intelligent, cunning, they didn't lose limbs and rot and when they felt like it, they embraced their inner monster and went apeshit on everyone and everything in their way.
Zombies were nothing but a host for a parasitic virus.
Revenants had established a symbiosis with it.
A Shambler stared at him blankly as he shuffled by, a half-empty can of ravioli in his right, a spoon in his left hand. Usually, he went to have breakfast on the roof of one of the taller buildings of the wrecked city, but today, he had a lot to do and didn't want to waste any time.
In the worn, dark brown mail bag he was carrying, he had stored several kinds of painkillers, antibiotics and antipyretics, as well as some more specific meds like asthma sprays and anticonvulsants.
There was a small settlement, a group that had found shelter in an old hotel, which he visited once every month to trade meds for wherever he needed at that moment. Today was one of these days.
About two thirds through his three-hour walk there, he passed by the entrance of a subway station, the same as always. And as always, he went down the stairs, followed the half-broken signs that indicated the directions to everything down here, into the ladies' restroom.
The mirrors in the men's restroom were mostly broken, others smeared with waterproof pens, but a mirror was exactly what he needed right now.
The water that left the tap had a sickly, greenish tint, but it would suffice to freshen himself up a little. After he was done washing his face and brushing his hair with a brush that was missing most of its bristles, he braided the sides back and tied everything up in a bun yo make himself look at least a little civilized. Though the massive scars across his face did make it harder.
Last but not least, he fished a small bottle of Tropicamide out of his bag and dripped two drops into each eye.
They reacted immediately, pupils dilating to the point of completely hiding his sulfur yellow irises. It'd last for three, maybe four hours, so he needed to make it quick.
Straightening up, he had a last look at his reflection. Aside from the scars, he looked better than some humans he'd come across.
Four hours later, he was on his way back with a bag full of canned food, some toilet paper, copper wire and a freshly sharpened tip on his trusty curtain rod.
Today was a good day, he concluded, as he greeted a swaying Shambler with a brisk groan. It reacted ten seconds later, oozing black saliva as it blankly stared at him, apparently awestruck by his coordinated movements, and tightened its grip on the graying piece of flesh it was carrying around. The thing was lucky that Shamblers couldn't suffer from food poisoning, else this one would be having a rough week.
And while the dead weren't the most eloquent or inspiring company, Esra felt like not eating alone tonight, so he just took a seat next to the drooling dead guy and fished a protein bar out of his bag.
"Y'know", he said, his voice raspy, "You should really try some hot chilli sauce on that."
The zombie suddenly perked up, and for a second Esra thought it had actually understood him, but then he smelled it, too.
Human.
Only one, if his sense of smell wasn't too confused by the dead's scent of rot, and they were coming closer.
"Nooo", he growled, threateningly pointing one finger at the zombie next to him, but it didn't give a damn and jumped up at an impressive speed.
They were stupid killing machines, of course, but he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't impressed by how their killer instincts kicked them into action.
And then it ran.
It was nothing but instinct that made him chase after it, whether it was his inner predator that got triggered by the sudden movement or something deeper, he couldn't really tell, but it didn't really matter right now.
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loup blanc
moved
It was all so hard. Every single day, when the sun rose in the sky, casting light over the streets of the city, and when it set and the moon replaced the star in the sky, leaving looming shadows behind skyscrapers. The world had been hanging on by a thread for years now, and what was left of humanity was in shambles. Survivors stealing from other survivors, killing each other over supplies and shelter. Killing each other because there was no law anymore. No order, no control, no leading figures, just humans that were trying their best to stay alive in the hellhole that earth had become. All sense of time, all sense of normalcy, it just didn't seem to exist. When fighting to fight by the skin of the neck, none of that seemed to matter too much anyway.
Parker had been going at it alone for quite some time now. What had it been, weeks, months, years? Too long, that was for sure. Too long since she had someone to talk to, - just how long had it been since she last uttered a word at all? - too long since she had human contact with anyone that didn't want to rob or kill her. God did she hate being alone. Hearing every little sound around her and not knowing whether it was a threat or whether it was just a trick of the wind on her ears was enough to leave her rather paranoid. Having to rely merely on her ears and the reverberations of her baseball bat scraping against the ground beside her was less than ideal. The girl hadn't been able to see her entire life, and while it was something she had grown accustomed to, it didn't make her situation any less terrifying.
Given her physical disability, one might wonder how the hell she had managed to stay alive this entire time. It was something that even she couldn't begin to fully understand. It was impossible to avoid every mutated being that roamed the streets, which made it inevitable that she would be at the receiving end of one of their attacks. Just when she thought that would be the end of her own life, unable to end it before anything could happen, instead, nothing happened. Her body had seemed to.. accept the virus. Like it didn't affect her at all. Like she was immune to the disease. Was that even possible? Parker had no idea, so it wasn't something she would willingly share with anyone. If they didn't believe that she was immune, chances are they would attempt to kill her.
And, no matter how difficult it was to wake up every single day and continue pushing on, she still had a will. How? Again, it wasn't something she was sure about herself. She had always been a rather bright and optimistic person despite the chaos around her in the world, able to keep her head up even when things got rough. Even when she cried herself to sleep because of the fear of not waking up the next morning, or waking up as one of those things. Parker didn't have to see to know the horrors that surrounded her every single day. Corpses littering the streets, most of which would get up a few hours later, entrails hanging out, tattered bodies limping along the streets and joining the hordes of the undead that had already overrun the entire world.
Each of the infected had their own quirks and sounds that Parker had been able to pick up on over the years of doing her best to avoid them. Not that there was too wide a variety of them, but still, they each had their own things about them.
Some had low, guttural groans, and their feet dragged their bodies along. That was, until they got a scent of their newest victim, because then they would take off running. And damn, were they fast. But, they weren't all that smart, and hiding from them was relatively easy. Ducking under cars or behind surfaces until they got bored and gave up. Playing the waiting game was something Parker grew accustomed to. It wasn't like she had anywhere to go, she just knew she couldn't stay still for too long.
The other ones, the far more dangerous ones, had a different sound to them. A growl, but a much sharper one, one that almost had a hiss behind it. Those were the smart ones. The ones that hiding from wasn't an option. Those were the ones that had given Parker more scars than she was willing to admit to anyone. Those ones, they wouldn't give up for anything. She only had one option; run. Run, or become their prey.
Being forced to run with no guide, no direction or sense of where she was going, not knowing where to go, was absolutely terrifying. What if she ran into a dead end? A horde that was waiting to claim her life for their latest meal? It wasn't something that the raven haired girl wanted to think about too much. A shiver always ran up her spine when the though crossed her mind. She always felt so vulnerable, like she would be jumped at any given second. To be perfectly fair to her, it was a perfectly reasonable fear.
The second stomping footsteps from down the street began to echo, Parker's heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. It was the type she could hide from, she was quick to asses, because the more dangerous of the two were more silent hunters. Ones that wouldn't announce their presence until they had closed in on their target. No human would be stupid enough to cause that much noise and draw attention to themselves. But fuck, she was not ready to have to duck and cover on the streets. Not right now, at least, when the area had been silent for hours as she dragged herself down the street. Running on a near empty stomach, with little to no water intake in the past day or two, and almost no sleep, it left her in a rough position. Her last shelter had gotten overrun by the infected and it forced her out without a chance to grab anything aside from her bat.
With the footsteps rapidly closing in on her position, Parker knew she only had a few seconds before she would be spotted. If she didn't get out of sight, that would be it for her. With a sharp breath, her free hand stretched out to survey the area around her, searching for any indicator of an object around her. Crowded streets were a nightmare when it came to outrunning the zombies, but it made hiding rather accessible. Abandoned cars lined the streets, enough to offer cover. The second her hand made contact with the hood of a car, she dropped to her knees, navigating her way under the vehicle and rolling onto her back, bat clung tightly against her chest. She had learned to control her breathing over the years as well, to ensure that she wouldn't be heard by her assailant. It came in handy for both zombies and humans.
Parker had been going at it alone for quite some time now. What had it been, weeks, months, years? Too long, that was for sure. Too long since she had someone to talk to, - just how long had it been since she last uttered a word at all? - too long since she had human contact with anyone that didn't want to rob or kill her. God did she hate being alone. Hearing every little sound around her and not knowing whether it was a threat or whether it was just a trick of the wind on her ears was enough to leave her rather paranoid. Having to rely merely on her ears and the reverberations of her baseball bat scraping against the ground beside her was less than ideal. The girl hadn't been able to see her entire life, and while it was something she had grown accustomed to, it didn't make her situation any less terrifying.
Given her physical disability, one might wonder how the hell she had managed to stay alive this entire time. It was something that even she couldn't begin to fully understand. It was impossible to avoid every mutated being that roamed the streets, which made it inevitable that she would be at the receiving end of one of their attacks. Just when she thought that would be the end of her own life, unable to end it before anything could happen, instead, nothing happened. Her body had seemed to.. accept the virus. Like it didn't affect her at all. Like she was immune to the disease. Was that even possible? Parker had no idea, so it wasn't something she would willingly share with anyone. If they didn't believe that she was immune, chances are they would attempt to kill her.
And, no matter how difficult it was to wake up every single day and continue pushing on, she still had a will. How? Again, it wasn't something she was sure about herself. She had always been a rather bright and optimistic person despite the chaos around her in the world, able to keep her head up even when things got rough. Even when she cried herself to sleep because of the fear of not waking up the next morning, or waking up as one of those things. Parker didn't have to see to know the horrors that surrounded her every single day. Corpses littering the streets, most of which would get up a few hours later, entrails hanging out, tattered bodies limping along the streets and joining the hordes of the undead that had already overrun the entire world.
Each of the infected had their own quirks and sounds that Parker had been able to pick up on over the years of doing her best to avoid them. Not that there was too wide a variety of them, but still, they each had their own things about them.
Some had low, guttural groans, and their feet dragged their bodies along. That was, until they got a scent of their newest victim, because then they would take off running. And damn, were they fast. But, they weren't all that smart, and hiding from them was relatively easy. Ducking under cars or behind surfaces until they got bored and gave up. Playing the waiting game was something Parker grew accustomed to. It wasn't like she had anywhere to go, she just knew she couldn't stay still for too long.
The other ones, the far more dangerous ones, had a different sound to them. A growl, but a much sharper one, one that almost had a hiss behind it. Those were the smart ones. The ones that hiding from wasn't an option. Those were the ones that had given Parker more scars than she was willing to admit to anyone. Those ones, they wouldn't give up for anything. She only had one option; run. Run, or become their prey.
Being forced to run with no guide, no direction or sense of where she was going, not knowing where to go, was absolutely terrifying. What if she ran into a dead end? A horde that was waiting to claim her life for their latest meal? It wasn't something that the raven haired girl wanted to think about too much. A shiver always ran up her spine when the though crossed her mind. She always felt so vulnerable, like she would be jumped at any given second. To be perfectly fair to her, it was a perfectly reasonable fear.
The second stomping footsteps from down the street began to echo, Parker's heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. It was the type she could hide from, she was quick to asses, because the more dangerous of the two were more silent hunters. Ones that wouldn't announce their presence until they had closed in on their target. No human would be stupid enough to cause that much noise and draw attention to themselves. But fuck, she was not ready to have to duck and cover on the streets. Not right now, at least, when the area had been silent for hours as she dragged herself down the street. Running on a near empty stomach, with little to no water intake in the past day or two, and almost no sleep, it left her in a rough position. Her last shelter had gotten overrun by the infected and it forced her out without a chance to grab anything aside from her bat.
With the footsteps rapidly closing in on her position, Parker knew she only had a few seconds before she would be spotted. If she didn't get out of sight, that would be it for her. With a sharp breath, her free hand stretched out to survey the area around her, searching for any indicator of an object around her. Crowded streets were a nightmare when it came to outrunning the zombies, but it made hiding rather accessible. Abandoned cars lined the streets, enough to offer cover. The second her hand made contact with the hood of a car, she dropped to her knees, navigating her way under the vehicle and rolling onto her back, bat clung tightly against her chest. She had learned to control her breathing over the years as well, to ensure that she wouldn't be heard by her assailant. It came in handy for both zombies and humans.
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Kaya
Perhaps short of a marble
While Esra constantly made an effort to control his hunting instinct, he knew that, in most cases, his instincts could be trusted. Even before he had become a Revenant he'd listened to his gut feeling most of the time, and it had rarely ever betrayed him.
So when something inside him kicked him into action the second the zombie started to run, he didn't waste any time thinking twice. Something inside him responded to the scent of this particular human, lit up his apathetic, indifferent undead self like fourth of July fireworks and made him do something he rarely ever did;
He got involved. Normally, he let people figure out their zombie problems on their own, but something deep inside him couldn't stay out of it now.
He wasn't sure whether to be glad or annoyed by the fact that this zombie was a Growler, not a Hisser;
While Hissers were way fiercer, Growlers could reach running speeds that regularly left him speechless- creatures that appeared so plump and uncoordinated really shouldn't be able to move this swiftly, but at least they were, quite literally, dumb as a block of wood.
The third and most dangerous kind of undead, though, neither growled nor hissed.
The sound they made occasionally was somewhat reminiscent of a cougar's roar mixed with the snarl of an alligator, just dragged longer and in a way higher pitch. Most of the time, they kept quiet, though, as to not announce themselves.
It had been building up inside him, a low rumble deep in his chest that threatened to escape in a plain demonic screech just to end with a rumbling hiss.
When it did escape, a couple of stupidly watching bystanders stumbled into the shelter of the next alleys, driven by actually being aware that a true predator was among them or plain instinct, he couldn't really tell; though he didn't really consider them intelligent enough to actually form a clear thought in their decaying skulls.
By now, the dilating effect of the eye drips had worn off, Irises back to a bright sulfur yellow while his pupils contracted to tiny dots as the tunnel vision kicked in.
The world blurred, the sole focus of his attention right now was the sparsely hairy back of the zombie's head, like a hunting dog chasing its prey. This Shambler was no prey, but right now, his inner predator was too busy enjoying the thrill of the hunt to notice.
The zombie had reached the car by now and was hammering its hands against it relentlessly, probably trying to break down the windows.
He didn't think when he crashed into the undead at full speed, crushing it between the side of the car and himself.
He heard a few ribs cracking, one pierced through the zombie's back and into his side, a small injury that'd heal within a couple of days.
Nothing that'd slow him down.
Another screech escaped him, right into his opponent's face as he turned the undead around and grabbed it by its neck.
Even for a creature as dull as this one, the message was clear-
Mine.
It didn't even bother snarling when he pushed it away; it just turned around and wandered off groaning like nothing had ever happened.
Classic Growler. A Hisser would've tried to fight him for sure, and probably gotten him good once or twice before he would've managed to chase it off or kill it.
After watching the shambling guy for a few more seconds, he turned to tear the car's door open, ripping the lock right out of its socket, but to his surprise, no one was in there.
But why-...?
Closing his eyes, he took a long, deep breath to pick up the human's scent. It was pooling here, mixing with adrenaline; they were here, definitely, perhaps hiding under the car.
Clever.
A Growler was a fantastic runner if it just wanted to, but they were close to helpless when it came to crawling or getting back up afterwards. Even if it had managed to get on all fours to try and pull them out from under the car, it would be been easy to shake it off and get a head start while it was still scrambling to its feet.
After pulling the deep hood of his coat over his head to hide his eyes, he more or less carefully knocked his knuckles agaunst the side of the car.
"It's gone, you can come out", he explained. "Don't worry, I come in peace."
So when something inside him kicked him into action the second the zombie started to run, he didn't waste any time thinking twice. Something inside him responded to the scent of this particular human, lit up his apathetic, indifferent undead self like fourth of July fireworks and made him do something he rarely ever did;
He got involved. Normally, he let people figure out their zombie problems on their own, but something deep inside him couldn't stay out of it now.
He wasn't sure whether to be glad or annoyed by the fact that this zombie was a Growler, not a Hisser;
While Hissers were way fiercer, Growlers could reach running speeds that regularly left him speechless- creatures that appeared so plump and uncoordinated really shouldn't be able to move this swiftly, but at least they were, quite literally, dumb as a block of wood.
The third and most dangerous kind of undead, though, neither growled nor hissed.
The sound they made occasionally was somewhat reminiscent of a cougar's roar mixed with the snarl of an alligator, just dragged longer and in a way higher pitch. Most of the time, they kept quiet, though, as to not announce themselves.
It had been building up inside him, a low rumble deep in his chest that threatened to escape in a plain demonic screech just to end with a rumbling hiss.
When it did escape, a couple of stupidly watching bystanders stumbled into the shelter of the next alleys, driven by actually being aware that a true predator was among them or plain instinct, he couldn't really tell; though he didn't really consider them intelligent enough to actually form a clear thought in their decaying skulls.
By now, the dilating effect of the eye drips had worn off, Irises back to a bright sulfur yellow while his pupils contracted to tiny dots as the tunnel vision kicked in.
The world blurred, the sole focus of his attention right now was the sparsely hairy back of the zombie's head, like a hunting dog chasing its prey. This Shambler was no prey, but right now, his inner predator was too busy enjoying the thrill of the hunt to notice.
The zombie had reached the car by now and was hammering its hands against it relentlessly, probably trying to break down the windows.
He didn't think when he crashed into the undead at full speed, crushing it between the side of the car and himself.
He heard a few ribs cracking, one pierced through the zombie's back and into his side, a small injury that'd heal within a couple of days.
Nothing that'd slow him down.
Another screech escaped him, right into his opponent's face as he turned the undead around and grabbed it by its neck.
Even for a creature as dull as this one, the message was clear-
Mine.
It didn't even bother snarling when he pushed it away; it just turned around and wandered off groaning like nothing had ever happened.
Classic Growler. A Hisser would've tried to fight him for sure, and probably gotten him good once or twice before he would've managed to chase it off or kill it.
After watching the shambling guy for a few more seconds, he turned to tear the car's door open, ripping the lock right out of its socket, but to his surprise, no one was in there.
But why-...?
Closing his eyes, he took a long, deep breath to pick up the human's scent. It was pooling here, mixing with adrenaline; they were here, definitely, perhaps hiding under the car.
Clever.
A Growler was a fantastic runner if it just wanted to, but they were close to helpless when it came to crawling or getting back up afterwards. Even if it had managed to get on all fours to try and pull them out from under the car, it would be been easy to shake it off and get a head start while it was still scrambling to its feet.
After pulling the deep hood of his coat over his head to hide his eyes, he more or less carefully knocked his knuckles agaunst the side of the car.
"It's gone, you can come out", he explained. "Don't worry, I come in peace."
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loup blanc
moved
Even if Parker knew how to handle herself, how to evade, hide and fight, it was still not a position she enjoyed being in. Who would enjoy the feeling of being pinned down, unable to move or make a sound without the fear of being found? Even if she was immune to catching the virus and becoming one of those creatures, that didn't mean she was safe. They still tried to tear their prey away bit by bit, ripping out organs and feasting on them like it was a meal prepared just for them.
Those things, they were ruthless. Even without being able to see the gruesome sight, just being able to hear the things they did to people, it was enough to make her body shake with nerves and paranoia. But, she had to learn to accept that. There was nothing anyone could do to change the way the zombies behaved, the way the virus took over their bodies and turned them into machines that were set on only doing one thing; destroying anyone and anything in their path.
The only good thing about traveling alone was the fact that she didn't have to worry about making sure anyone else was able to hide and keep quiet. Traveling in bigger groups left a bigger threat to everyone involved, no matter how much it would have seemed to be the opposite. Finding a hiding spot for everyone, making sure everyone was protected and safe, it was definitely difficult.
That being said, even just having one other person would have been better than going it alone.
Having someone to talk to, to joke with as if the world wasn't continuing to deteriorate alongside the zombies that continued to grow in numbers, it would have done a lot for Parker's psyche. Though, it was something she knew, like everything else, she would have to accept.
She just had to live every day like it was her last, didn't she? Trying to enjoy the little things, to not take anything for granted. Like when she was able to drink clean water, or eat food that wasn't past its expiration.
It was the little things that she had to focus on to get her through the day, not the multitude of horrible things that had happened, or that were on the way in her near future. Eventually, everyone would die, it was just a normal part of life.
Unfortunately, most that died didn't stay dead for too long.
The banging she soon heard from the car above her was enough to remind Parker of the very real situation she was in. Having squeezed her eyes shut tightly - more as a defense mechanism than one that would actually do anything - she had managed to zone out a little bit. To focus on her breathing, to stay still and not allow herself to go into an episode of panic. Hyperventilating was the last thing she wanted to do in a situation like this.
No, she needed to relax, as impossible as that might have seemed. The zombie was clearly trying to break into the car - the exact reason she always hid under them, and not in them - but eventually it would have to give up, because it wouldn't find anything in there.
Certainly was a good thing that these types of zombies never learned from their mistakes, because that would have made everything much more dangerous. If they learned that Parker hid under for the very reason that she knew they searched inside the car, her entire system would have to be completely reworked. Outrunning those things was near impossible, especially given her circumstances.
They were merely hunger driven machines, they didn't need to have brains themselves.
The thought of that was enough to almost make Parker smile in amusement.
Almost.
She was in a tight position, and while the zombie above her wasn't too much of a threat, the series of sounds that followed were enough to cause her entire body to flinch and lock up a little bit. Her heart sunk into the pit of her stomach. The other forms of infected, they were competitive. They would destroy anything in their path to get to their prey. The silent hunters, the ones that didn't make sound until their victim was in their hands. They were the ones that really gave Parker the most fear. They were unpredictable, almost undetectable, and smart. There was no way she was hiding from it. At least, she assumed it was another zombie, because what else would have bashed right into the one that was fanatically trying to get at her?
But, if she crawled out from underneath the car to try to escape, wouldn't they both notice her?
She was screwed.
The silence that followed the crash was anything other than pleasant or settling. What could she do other than wait to get pulled out from under the car by her leg or arm by what she assumed to be one of the hunters? Another sound followed, one more indistinguishable to her ears, then, more silence. Having been glued to her spot, not knowing what to do, she had just waited. Wouldn't she have been grabbed, or at least bitten at by now?
Silence, she really hated it now. It was too easy to pick up on every little sound even from a slight distance. The fact that she didn't know what was going on still, after so much of a pause, was unsettling. She could hear the footsteps and the groan of the zombie that had initially been tracking her down, but if it was so willingly leaving, then didn't there have to be another zombie?
But no, instead she heard the sound of.. a human voice? While hearing another person was something that calmed her the slightest bit, it also left her on edge. Too many people had approached her with the intention of either stealing from her, or killing her. Sometimes they didn't even want supplies from people, they just killed because it brought them a thrill.
What would happen to her if she told them she had nothing on her? Would they not believe her, or would they get mad and kill her regardless? She needed to get away before she could take that risk. Losing supplies wasn't something she would risk her life over, but the only thing she had on her was her bat. If they took that from her, she would be left completely defenseless.
Parker had to get out.
The voice came from her right side, which meant if she snuck out the left side, she at least had a chance, right? It was a crap shoot, but to at least try was better than nothing.
Carefully, she felt the ground beside her, trying to get a grip as she carefully and quietly rolled onto her stomach, doing her best to push herself out from underneath the vehicle.
It was a shame, really, Parker used to be so trusting of people, yet here she was, ready to make a run for it, just to get away from them. Hoping to have someone to travel with, yet booking it the second she comes into contact with another person.
Ironic, if she was being perfectly honest with herself. Yet, it wasn't going to stop her or make her second guess her actions. People were deceitful, a lot had malicious intent, so how was she supposed to trust everyone else?
Those things, they were ruthless. Even without being able to see the gruesome sight, just being able to hear the things they did to people, it was enough to make her body shake with nerves and paranoia. But, she had to learn to accept that. There was nothing anyone could do to change the way the zombies behaved, the way the virus took over their bodies and turned them into machines that were set on only doing one thing; destroying anyone and anything in their path.
The only good thing about traveling alone was the fact that she didn't have to worry about making sure anyone else was able to hide and keep quiet. Traveling in bigger groups left a bigger threat to everyone involved, no matter how much it would have seemed to be the opposite. Finding a hiding spot for everyone, making sure everyone was protected and safe, it was definitely difficult.
That being said, even just having one other person would have been better than going it alone.
Having someone to talk to, to joke with as if the world wasn't continuing to deteriorate alongside the zombies that continued to grow in numbers, it would have done a lot for Parker's psyche. Though, it was something she knew, like everything else, she would have to accept.
She just had to live every day like it was her last, didn't she? Trying to enjoy the little things, to not take anything for granted. Like when she was able to drink clean water, or eat food that wasn't past its expiration.
It was the little things that she had to focus on to get her through the day, not the multitude of horrible things that had happened, or that were on the way in her near future. Eventually, everyone would die, it was just a normal part of life.
Unfortunately, most that died didn't stay dead for too long.
The banging she soon heard from the car above her was enough to remind Parker of the very real situation she was in. Having squeezed her eyes shut tightly - more as a defense mechanism than one that would actually do anything - she had managed to zone out a little bit. To focus on her breathing, to stay still and not allow herself to go into an episode of panic. Hyperventilating was the last thing she wanted to do in a situation like this.
No, she needed to relax, as impossible as that might have seemed. The zombie was clearly trying to break into the car - the exact reason she always hid under them, and not in them - but eventually it would have to give up, because it wouldn't find anything in there.
Certainly was a good thing that these types of zombies never learned from their mistakes, because that would have made everything much more dangerous. If they learned that Parker hid under for the very reason that she knew they searched inside the car, her entire system would have to be completely reworked. Outrunning those things was near impossible, especially given her circumstances.
They were merely hunger driven machines, they didn't need to have brains themselves.
The thought of that was enough to almost make Parker smile in amusement.
Almost.
She was in a tight position, and while the zombie above her wasn't too much of a threat, the series of sounds that followed were enough to cause her entire body to flinch and lock up a little bit. Her heart sunk into the pit of her stomach. The other forms of infected, they were competitive. They would destroy anything in their path to get to their prey. The silent hunters, the ones that didn't make sound until their victim was in their hands. They were the ones that really gave Parker the most fear. They were unpredictable, almost undetectable, and smart. There was no way she was hiding from it. At least, she assumed it was another zombie, because what else would have bashed right into the one that was fanatically trying to get at her?
But, if she crawled out from underneath the car to try to escape, wouldn't they both notice her?
She was screwed.
The silence that followed the crash was anything other than pleasant or settling. What could she do other than wait to get pulled out from under the car by her leg or arm by what she assumed to be one of the hunters? Another sound followed, one more indistinguishable to her ears, then, more silence. Having been glued to her spot, not knowing what to do, she had just waited. Wouldn't she have been grabbed, or at least bitten at by now?
Silence, she really hated it now. It was too easy to pick up on every little sound even from a slight distance. The fact that she didn't know what was going on still, after so much of a pause, was unsettling. She could hear the footsteps and the groan of the zombie that had initially been tracking her down, but if it was so willingly leaving, then didn't there have to be another zombie?
But no, instead she heard the sound of.. a human voice? While hearing another person was something that calmed her the slightest bit, it also left her on edge. Too many people had approached her with the intention of either stealing from her, or killing her. Sometimes they didn't even want supplies from people, they just killed because it brought them a thrill.
What would happen to her if she told them she had nothing on her? Would they not believe her, or would they get mad and kill her regardless? She needed to get away before she could take that risk. Losing supplies wasn't something she would risk her life over, but the only thing she had on her was her bat. If they took that from her, she would be left completely defenseless.
Parker had to get out.
The voice came from her right side, which meant if she snuck out the left side, she at least had a chance, right? It was a crap shoot, but to at least try was better than nothing.
Carefully, she felt the ground beside her, trying to get a grip as she carefully and quietly rolled onto her stomach, doing her best to push herself out from underneath the vehicle.
It was a shame, really, Parker used to be so trusting of people, yet here she was, ready to make a run for it, just to get away from them. Hoping to have someone to travel with, yet booking it the second she comes into contact with another person.
Ironic, if she was being perfectly honest with herself. Yet, it wasn't going to stop her or make her second guess her actions. People were deceitful, a lot had malicious intent, so how was she supposed to trust everyone else?
Kaya
Perhaps short of a marble
There had been a time when Esra had cared. Truly cared, perhaps too much, about the wellbeing of everyone. There had been a time when he had focused all his strength and given everything up for a man who didn't deserve it.
The world had always been a shithole and if he was being honest he didn't remember a time before the undead; but the hopeless romantic he had been, he had hoped for so long, to have found something beautiful in this wretched world, something worth the fight.
And he wasn't going to lie, the time with Fior hadn't always been bad. There had been good times, but in the end, he had abandoned himself for someone who had manipulated himself to the point of being an abuser and unable to see it.
He'd always found ways to twist the truth into making him seem like a selfless, great person, at least to himself.
And then he had kicked him to the curb for a bag of weed, unwilling to understand that getting stoned was the worst idea in a world like this.
But Esra wasn't hoping that the Shamblers had killed him, no, in all honesty he liked to entertain a daydream of Fior having become what Esra himself had become, too; not dead. Not alive. And hated and feared by both. Isolated.
Was it petty, to wish him this kind of fate?
Maybe. But in this world, morale was as half-dead and twisted as the Undead that had made it their kingdom.
And Esra himself wasn't any different.
Well, there had been a time when he had been, actually, after what had happened with that asshole.
He'd met her.
A blind girl in a murderous world, still alive, and, even more impressive, still optimistic and seeing the best in everyone. Sometimes her positive attitude had annoyed him, when she had challenged him to let go of his bitterness and pessimism for a while, but it had never lessened how much she impressed him.
He couldn't really remember why or how they had been separated, maybe it had been an argument ending in him leaving to collect some more supplies and cool off, but he really wasn't sure. All he did know was that he had been ambushed by a Hisser shortly after, who had disfigured his face and bitten a good chunk of flesh out of his shoulder.
The next thing he remembered was waking up to a new kind of hunger and the realization that he was missing most memories of several days before the incident.
He'd tried to find her afterwards, but his newly awoken instincts had made him abandon that thought rather quickly; every time he had started to track down a human's scent, it had sent him into a blind hunting fit, resulting in a rising death count. If he had found her at that time, he would've killed her, simple as that.
The sound of the body beneath the car starting to move pulled Esra from his thoughts- something about this person's scent had made them wander, somehow- and snap back into the here and now.
They were moving away from him, he could hear, something that was to be expected these days. The undead weren't the only enemy humans had to fear, after all. They fought among themselves to the point of seeming no more civilised than the zombies they hated so much.
As quietly as he could, Esra slipped out of his shoes to make as little noise as possible, and carefully moved around the car to get a look at the person whose scent was somehow so confusing to him, while they were still busy crawling out from under the car.
And what he saw almost made his heart beat a single, weak thump, out of pure shock.
How many people were there with this slightly bluish, black hair and heterochromia like this?
The way her eyes didn't seem to focus on anything, her hands feeling around...
Even if it wasn't for her whole body language, he reckognized the face.
It was the face of a person he had admired for her goddamn annoying optimism. For her stupid way of thinking that there was something good in everyone. A person whose objectively dumb, good heart had confused him so often.
The shock was what made him act dumb, too, forgetting about her disability for just a moment as he kneeled beside her and held her shoulders to stare at her face in disbelief. And still a part of him made sure to check that her clothes were separating her human skin from his. He didn't know how dangerous his touch was, so he avoided touching people at all cost. Not that there were many people who'd let him get close enough to even try to do so, mind you.
At some point, he hadn't just gotten accustomed to it, but actually grown scared of touching someone. This small touch really was just pure impulse, and he flinched back the second he realized what he was doing.
But right now, there were other things occupying his mind; there was no doubt it was her, however miniscule the chance.
"My god", he whispered, sulfur yellow eyes widening to the size of saucers.
"How-?"
Realizing how much he must've startled her, he scooted back just a little, giving her space, hoping that something, his scent, his voice, although raspier than back then, would prove to her that it was really him.
"Sorry, sorry. It's me, Parker. Esra. Do you recognize me...?"
The world had always been a shithole and if he was being honest he didn't remember a time before the undead; but the hopeless romantic he had been, he had hoped for so long, to have found something beautiful in this wretched world, something worth the fight.
And he wasn't going to lie, the time with Fior hadn't always been bad. There had been good times, but in the end, he had abandoned himself for someone who had manipulated himself to the point of being an abuser and unable to see it.
He'd always found ways to twist the truth into making him seem like a selfless, great person, at least to himself.
And then he had kicked him to the curb for a bag of weed, unwilling to understand that getting stoned was the worst idea in a world like this.
But Esra wasn't hoping that the Shamblers had killed him, no, in all honesty he liked to entertain a daydream of Fior having become what Esra himself had become, too; not dead. Not alive. And hated and feared by both. Isolated.
Was it petty, to wish him this kind of fate?
Maybe. But in this world, morale was as half-dead and twisted as the Undead that had made it their kingdom.
And Esra himself wasn't any different.
Well, there had been a time when he had been, actually, after what had happened with that asshole.
He'd met her.
A blind girl in a murderous world, still alive, and, even more impressive, still optimistic and seeing the best in everyone. Sometimes her positive attitude had annoyed him, when she had challenged him to let go of his bitterness and pessimism for a while, but it had never lessened how much she impressed him.
He couldn't really remember why or how they had been separated, maybe it had been an argument ending in him leaving to collect some more supplies and cool off, but he really wasn't sure. All he did know was that he had been ambushed by a Hisser shortly after, who had disfigured his face and bitten a good chunk of flesh out of his shoulder.
The next thing he remembered was waking up to a new kind of hunger and the realization that he was missing most memories of several days before the incident.
He'd tried to find her afterwards, but his newly awoken instincts had made him abandon that thought rather quickly; every time he had started to track down a human's scent, it had sent him into a blind hunting fit, resulting in a rising death count. If he had found her at that time, he would've killed her, simple as that.
The sound of the body beneath the car starting to move pulled Esra from his thoughts- something about this person's scent had made them wander, somehow- and snap back into the here and now.
They were moving away from him, he could hear, something that was to be expected these days. The undead weren't the only enemy humans had to fear, after all. They fought among themselves to the point of seeming no more civilised than the zombies they hated so much.
As quietly as he could, Esra slipped out of his shoes to make as little noise as possible, and carefully moved around the car to get a look at the person whose scent was somehow so confusing to him, while they were still busy crawling out from under the car.
And what he saw almost made his heart beat a single, weak thump, out of pure shock.
How many people were there with this slightly bluish, black hair and heterochromia like this?
The way her eyes didn't seem to focus on anything, her hands feeling around...
Even if it wasn't for her whole body language, he reckognized the face.
It was the face of a person he had admired for her goddamn annoying optimism. For her stupid way of thinking that there was something good in everyone. A person whose objectively dumb, good heart had confused him so often.
The shock was what made him act dumb, too, forgetting about her disability for just a moment as he kneeled beside her and held her shoulders to stare at her face in disbelief. And still a part of him made sure to check that her clothes were separating her human skin from his. He didn't know how dangerous his touch was, so he avoided touching people at all cost. Not that there were many people who'd let him get close enough to even try to do so, mind you.
At some point, he hadn't just gotten accustomed to it, but actually grown scared of touching someone. This small touch really was just pure impulse, and he flinched back the second he realized what he was doing.
But right now, there were other things occupying his mind; there was no doubt it was her, however miniscule the chance.
"My god", he whispered, sulfur yellow eyes widening to the size of saucers.
"How-?"
Realizing how much he must've startled her, he scooted back just a little, giving her space, hoping that something, his scent, his voice, although raspier than back then, would prove to her that it was really him.
"Sorry, sorry. It's me, Parker. Esra. Do you recognize me...?"
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loup blanc
moved
It was a shame that, instead of feeling secure and happy from the thought of human contact, Parker was more terrified than anything. She had learned to fear other people, because their greed tended to drive their actions, thoughts and words. She had tried. She really, really, really had. Seeing the best in people, trying to give everyone a second chance, - hell, sometimes even fourth or fifth chances - trying to keep the mindset that not everyone was bad, it was hard to manage. For someone living in her current situation, most people saw her optimism as ignorant, foolish, childish, etc. It was her way of trying to take life one step at a time. Trying to keep herself convinced that there really was a point to all of this, that fighting to survive wasn't just a pointless objective.
Parker wanted to have the same mindset that she did all those years ago. She wanted to be the bright, happy and optimistic girl that she had been, but the truth was, time began to wear her down. Now, she felt fear, she felt sadness, the light that was once in her began to dwindle. Losing someone that she had been particularly close with certainly hadn't helped that in any way. Being alone for so long, it took its toll on her mind. A heavy one, at that. It took fighting her own mind to try to stay positive and look on the bright side of things.
It was draining, really. Giving in to all the other raging emotions seemed easier, and less tiring. It was easier to not have hope and not have expectations, than to believe something better would come, only to be disappointed by the results. Parker really had been beaten down and battered by the world, the longer she struggled to keep pushing on.
She would love to say that she still believed all of that to this day, but the truth was, she didn't. Some people weren't to be reasoned with, some didn't deserve another chance, and some didn't even seem to care how others saw them. Those that killed, that stole, that tortured and kidnapped, all for their own personal gain. It made Parker sick down to the pit of her stomach. Part of her still had that blissfully ignorant outlook, but the more sensible part of her mind shut down any of those thoughts before they had the chance to persuade her in any sort of way. Her brain tried to protect her from any damage, and that was the exact reason her fight or flight response had been activated the second she heard the human voice.
She just couldn't take chances with anyone. The risk of them finding out about her differences were too big of a factor for her to allow herself to open up to anyone. Not that she had particularly run into any other living being in at least the past few weeks. Though, she certainly preferred it that way.
It was easier to not have to make those choices when she wasn't presented with any options. Keep moving on, keep surviving, that was all she had to go off of. That was what got her through the day. Not a strong will, but her instincts continuing to carry her on, to make it through another day, still alive and breathing. It wasn't really a way to live, yet it had become her way of life.
Alone. Alone, dependent, strong. More a machine running on programming than a human enjoying life to the fullest. Oh well. Life was always full of new challenges, wasn't it? Maybe the longer she could push on, the stronger she would get. She had already been through hell before, what was the harm of going through it some more? There wasn't too much time to dawdle on those thoughts, however, as she still needed to make her escape. Whoever was above her couldn't be trusted. No, why would the zombie have willingly walked away without putting up a fight if it was a person? Was it possible for a human to control the undead?
The thought of that alone was enough to send a chill right up Parker's spine. As if it couldn't get worse, that would really take the cake right there. With that kind of power, someone would surely want to abuse it for their own benefit, just like everything else before.
Parker was almost fully out from beneath the car when she began to hear footsteps approaching. It made her blood run cold, for just a split second. Without the ability to see, it had caused her other senses to strengthen a bit, to make up for the lack of one of her senses. It certainly helped when listening out for the infected around every turn, but that meant every little sound left her rather paranoid. Every shift, every little thump, thud or creak left her tense and on guard, rarely ever able to relax. Not fully, at least. She couldn't remember the last time she had fully relaxed. For a moment, just a fleeting moment, she considered running. Just launching to her feet and getting out of there as fast as possible, but with the still lurking threat, she knew that wouldn't be smart.
She had to play this carefully. Her bat was still gripped tightly in one hand, ready to swing if need be. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, but there was no telling what this person wanted. The hands on her shoulders were enough to cause her to flinch rather badly, body immediately trying to put distance from the contact. Enough that her back slammed against the side of the car that she had just crawled out from. It didn't stop her bat from raising, though, her hand quickly shifting until the weapon had made contact with something. What she could only assume was the person, seeing as she wasn't being bitten at. Clearly not one of those zombies/
"Don't touch me-" she quickly forced out, though her voice was rough and scratchy from not having talked for.. well, a long time. Days, weeks, years, she had lost count.
She hadn't been touched in so long that even just the feeling was foreign, and it made her even more tense than she had already been. The announcement of the name, the familiar name and made her pause, did little to ease her even still. Esra. It had felt like forever since they had last been with each other. Was it.. really him? Not being able to visually confirm was certainly a factor that made it difficult, but how could it be a lie? It had been so long, but he knew her name. It would be near impossible for anyone to lie about something like that. The bat that had been so tightly held within her grasp slowly lowered until the tip made contact with the ground, her hand slowly letting go of it.
"Es.. ra..?" she whispered, disbelief coating her tone. Of course, she was happy to hear that he was still alive and well after all this time - that was what she could assume, at least - but shock was still the prevailing emotion in her body.
Parker wanted to have the same mindset that she did all those years ago. She wanted to be the bright, happy and optimistic girl that she had been, but the truth was, time began to wear her down. Now, she felt fear, she felt sadness, the light that was once in her began to dwindle. Losing someone that she had been particularly close with certainly hadn't helped that in any way. Being alone for so long, it took its toll on her mind. A heavy one, at that. It took fighting her own mind to try to stay positive and look on the bright side of things.
It was draining, really. Giving in to all the other raging emotions seemed easier, and less tiring. It was easier to not have hope and not have expectations, than to believe something better would come, only to be disappointed by the results. Parker really had been beaten down and battered by the world, the longer she struggled to keep pushing on.
She would love to say that she still believed all of that to this day, but the truth was, she didn't. Some people weren't to be reasoned with, some didn't deserve another chance, and some didn't even seem to care how others saw them. Those that killed, that stole, that tortured and kidnapped, all for their own personal gain. It made Parker sick down to the pit of her stomach. Part of her still had that blissfully ignorant outlook, but the more sensible part of her mind shut down any of those thoughts before they had the chance to persuade her in any sort of way. Her brain tried to protect her from any damage, and that was the exact reason her fight or flight response had been activated the second she heard the human voice.
She just couldn't take chances with anyone. The risk of them finding out about her differences were too big of a factor for her to allow herself to open up to anyone. Not that she had particularly run into any other living being in at least the past few weeks. Though, she certainly preferred it that way.
It was easier to not have to make those choices when she wasn't presented with any options. Keep moving on, keep surviving, that was all she had to go off of. That was what got her through the day. Not a strong will, but her instincts continuing to carry her on, to make it through another day, still alive and breathing. It wasn't really a way to live, yet it had become her way of life.
Alone. Alone, dependent, strong. More a machine running on programming than a human enjoying life to the fullest. Oh well. Life was always full of new challenges, wasn't it? Maybe the longer she could push on, the stronger she would get. She had already been through hell before, what was the harm of going through it some more? There wasn't too much time to dawdle on those thoughts, however, as she still needed to make her escape. Whoever was above her couldn't be trusted. No, why would the zombie have willingly walked away without putting up a fight if it was a person? Was it possible for a human to control the undead?
The thought of that alone was enough to send a chill right up Parker's spine. As if it couldn't get worse, that would really take the cake right there. With that kind of power, someone would surely want to abuse it for their own benefit, just like everything else before.
Parker was almost fully out from beneath the car when she began to hear footsteps approaching. It made her blood run cold, for just a split second. Without the ability to see, it had caused her other senses to strengthen a bit, to make up for the lack of one of her senses. It certainly helped when listening out for the infected around every turn, but that meant every little sound left her rather paranoid. Every shift, every little thump, thud or creak left her tense and on guard, rarely ever able to relax. Not fully, at least. She couldn't remember the last time she had fully relaxed. For a moment, just a fleeting moment, she considered running. Just launching to her feet and getting out of there as fast as possible, but with the still lurking threat, she knew that wouldn't be smart.
She had to play this carefully. Her bat was still gripped tightly in one hand, ready to swing if need be. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, but there was no telling what this person wanted. The hands on her shoulders were enough to cause her to flinch rather badly, body immediately trying to put distance from the contact. Enough that her back slammed against the side of the car that she had just crawled out from. It didn't stop her bat from raising, though, her hand quickly shifting until the weapon had made contact with something. What she could only assume was the person, seeing as she wasn't being bitten at. Clearly not one of those zombies/
"Don't touch me-" she quickly forced out, though her voice was rough and scratchy from not having talked for.. well, a long time. Days, weeks, years, she had lost count.
She hadn't been touched in so long that even just the feeling was foreign, and it made her even more tense than she had already been. The announcement of the name, the familiar name and made her pause, did little to ease her even still. Esra. It had felt like forever since they had last been with each other. Was it.. really him? Not being able to visually confirm was certainly a factor that made it difficult, but how could it be a lie? It had been so long, but he knew her name. It would be near impossible for anyone to lie about something like that. The bat that had been so tightly held within her grasp slowly lowered until the tip made contact with the ground, her hand slowly letting go of it.
"Es.. ra..?" she whispered, disbelief coating her tone. Of course, she was happy to hear that he was still alive and well after all this time - that was what she could assume, at least - but shock was still the prevailing emotion in her body.
Kaya
Perhaps short of a marble
For a moment, out of pure habit and instinct, Esra slightly slightly lowered his head so his eyes were definitely hidden in the shadows the deep hood of his coat cast over his face. If anyone was to see the signature yellow of his irises that all Revenants shared, it was all that mattered; Yelloweyes were monsters to the Meatbags, just another, dangerously intelligent and resilient variation of the same monstrous species, no matter how he or any individual of them behaved.
Maybe it was the fact that they didn't bleed, like every other undead, or, oh, right- their need for human flesh.
Yeah, that probably was the main problem, and he was well aware that, if the world ever returned to normal, by whatever miracle, things would get really messy. How were they going to manage the Revenants living among them?
Would they kill them all?
Find a substitute for human meat?
Lock them all up in labs and secluded places where they'd be handled like the dangerous predators they admittedly were?
There was no way they could ever live together in peace; that probably was the reason Esra didn't really want the world to go back to how it had been.
The way it was now, the odds were even and he could get what he needed from the groaning idiots doing the dirty work.
Ugh, his kind was the perfect predator, and here he was, stooping down to playing the scavenger, like a lion pretending to be a hyena.
Whether that made him a better person or a disgrace to what his species was, was open for debate.
But one thing was clear-
Right now, it meant that he was skilled enough in keeping his hunger in check to be no threat to Parker's life. On the contrary: it probably made him the most valuable ally she could have out here.
That is, if they were going to team up again, of course. He didn't want to make any assumptions, of course, but with her fear of being alone, he'd be surprised if she'd tell him to leave.
And while he didn't care about most people and didn't give a flying fuck about what would happen to them, he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't happy to find her here, alive and well.
A wide, warm smile, the first in way too many years, crept across his face, feeling like his facial muscles were awkwardly trying to play twister, honestly. It was like trying to remember the steps of folding an origami figure from ages ago.
What did that say about him, he wondered as he reached up to pull the hood away.
A few streaks of his long, black hair had fallen out of the bun and famed his face in wispy waves.
"What, don't believe me?", he chuckled quietly. "Can't blame you. But what about King of the road?"
He sang the last couple of words silently, the titular phrase of a song he'd liked to sing or hum whenever they had been wandering towards their next destination, when there were no undead around.
It had always been his way of expressing himself, or just killing some time.
He knew that, theoretically, every voice was unique, so he hoped that maybe she'd recognize his, as a kind of... prove, that it was really him.
"Sorry I startled you", he added after a moment. "But yeah. It's really me. I'm so glad to see you're still alive."
He didn't speak out the question that was nagging at the back of his mind the most-
How in the fresh hell had she even survived till now?
Without the ability to see, alone and surrounded by zombies, how had they not torn her to shreds yet, or turned her into one of their kind?
Keen eyes scanned her features as if Esra was trying to read her thoughts.
She looked tired, exhausted, really, like she hadn't had a proper rest or meal in a whole long while.
How did she even find herself food?
It was hard for him to image how someone could get by without their eyesight, especially in a zombie apocalypse, but here she was, by whatever miracle, proving him wrong. Like so many times before.
"You okay?", he finally asked quietly, a question that seemed so out of place in this broken world, especially coming from a Revenant. Especially coming from him. But here he was, asking it anyway.
Maybe it was the fact that they didn't bleed, like every other undead, or, oh, right- their need for human flesh.
Yeah, that probably was the main problem, and he was well aware that, if the world ever returned to normal, by whatever miracle, things would get really messy. How were they going to manage the Revenants living among them?
Would they kill them all?
Find a substitute for human meat?
Lock them all up in labs and secluded places where they'd be handled like the dangerous predators they admittedly were?
There was no way they could ever live together in peace; that probably was the reason Esra didn't really want the world to go back to how it had been.
The way it was now, the odds were even and he could get what he needed from the groaning idiots doing the dirty work.
Ugh, his kind was the perfect predator, and here he was, stooping down to playing the scavenger, like a lion pretending to be a hyena.
Whether that made him a better person or a disgrace to what his species was, was open for debate.
But one thing was clear-
Right now, it meant that he was skilled enough in keeping his hunger in check to be no threat to Parker's life. On the contrary: it probably made him the most valuable ally she could have out here.
That is, if they were going to team up again, of course. He didn't want to make any assumptions, of course, but with her fear of being alone, he'd be surprised if she'd tell him to leave.
And while he didn't care about most people and didn't give a flying fuck about what would happen to them, he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't happy to find her here, alive and well.
A wide, warm smile, the first in way too many years, crept across his face, feeling like his facial muscles were awkwardly trying to play twister, honestly. It was like trying to remember the steps of folding an origami figure from ages ago.
What did that say about him, he wondered as he reached up to pull the hood away.
A few streaks of his long, black hair had fallen out of the bun and famed his face in wispy waves.
"What, don't believe me?", he chuckled quietly. "Can't blame you. But what about King of the road?"
He sang the last couple of words silently, the titular phrase of a song he'd liked to sing or hum whenever they had been wandering towards their next destination, when there were no undead around.
It had always been his way of expressing himself, or just killing some time.
He knew that, theoretically, every voice was unique, so he hoped that maybe she'd recognize his, as a kind of... prove, that it was really him.
"Sorry I startled you", he added after a moment. "But yeah. It's really me. I'm so glad to see you're still alive."
He didn't speak out the question that was nagging at the back of his mind the most-
How in the fresh hell had she even survived till now?
Without the ability to see, alone and surrounded by zombies, how had they not torn her to shreds yet, or turned her into one of their kind?
Keen eyes scanned her features as if Esra was trying to read her thoughts.
She looked tired, exhausted, really, like she hadn't had a proper rest or meal in a whole long while.
How did she even find herself food?
It was hard for him to image how someone could get by without their eyesight, especially in a zombie apocalypse, but here she was, by whatever miracle, proving him wrong. Like so many times before.
"You okay?", he finally asked quietly, a question that seemed so out of place in this broken world, especially coming from a Revenant. Especially coming from him. But here he was, asking it anyway.
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loup blanc
moved
It had been so long since Parker had come across someone that didn't mean her harm, or to mislead her into stepping into danger. She had made that mistake before in the past - several times, in fact - which was the exact reason she stopped trusting others. That optimism had been killed the longer time that passed. Travelling on her own, while it was dangerous, somehow seemed to be the better option over falsely believing in someone's intentions. But, then, what were the chances that she would run into an old friend?
Someone that she had been able to trust with every single fiber of her being. It almost seemed impossible, like it was too good to be true. Esra? After all this time? The two had been separated so long ago, how was it possible that they would run into each other? The world was so big, either one of them could have been across the globe at this point, yet here they were, once again right in front of each other.
They both had to have changed a lot, even if they still had the characteristics that made them so familiar. The thought of the infected that had just been trying to get at her seemed to be completely disregarded in her mind, as her judgement was clouded by her shock.
Truth be told, she didn't know what to say. Parker didn't know what to do. She had never been a rather touchy person in the past, so her first instinct wasn't to tackle him in a hug or touch him in any sort of way, but her body was as still as a stiff board.
Despite her mind being on overload, telling herself to do a million different things at once, it just wouldn't happen. Her body wouldn't listen to her mind, so she was left sitting there, feeling like an idiot.
Maybe it was the part of her that couldn't believe the fact that Esra and her had crossed paths once again. The part of her brain that had become far more cynical over the years, overshadowing the majority that had been nothing but bright eyed and optimistic.
But, what was so hard to believe about it when he continued to prove himself? His name, her name, his voice, - though it was a little different now - but now, the familiar words. The familiar tune. No, there was no way that wasn't him. With the disadvantage of not being able to confirm familiarity through facial features, it left her doubting his honesty, but there was no doubt in her mind now. Not after all of that.
If she was alive, even after being mauled by the infected time and time again, why was it so hard to believe that they found each other again? Each situation was a one in a million chance, and maybe, just maybe, Parker's luck was turning around once again.
Finally finding him, she wouldn't want to let go again. Even if her body was still fighting her mind, keeping her planted in her spot.
"It's been so long.." she whispered, voice still shaky and rough after such a long period of disuse. For once, a spark of luck seemed to find its way back into her life, and she didn't want to take it for granted, nor to push it away. For everything that had happened over the years, something good had been bound to happen. This.. was certainly a welcomed surprise. Finally, she found herself able to move, but she merely took ahold of the bat she had dropped by her side, gripping onto it tightly as she slowly moved herself up onto her knees. Just enough to reach out to Esra, moving her hand until it had made contact with his body, trailing it up until she had made contact with his head.
Well, at least she could only assume what she was feeling was his hair due to the texture. She traced her hand along it for a moment before patting down against it - something she had used to do. Normally it was in a teasing manner, but now it was just something she felt the need to do.
Like allowing a type of normalcy back into her life. Old habits die hard, and finding Esra again seemed to only bring some old things back up. God, did Parker desperately need normalcy. A sense of security, a sense of hope. Maybe someone she could finally trust, after so long.
"It's nice to see you again," she soon added, a heavy sigh slipping past her lips as she pushed herself up onto her feet. Get up, keep moving, that's what she had trained herself to do. Waiting like a sitting duck would only get her killed, even if moving constantly would eventually be the death of her. Her feet were sore, her eyelids felt heavy, her body felt sluggish, the churning, tight feeling in her stomach was uncomfortable, but she had to push on.
Truth be told, Parker didn't know why she had such a strong motivation to keep going on. Life was.. more or less miserable for her. But, maybe it was the locked up hope deep within her body that one day things would look up. Maybe a cure for the disease that plagued all of these flesh eating creatures, maybe a hope for civilization and order to be restored, or maybe it was something else. Merely an instinct for survival that kept pushing her on.
Miserable, yet still so willing to keep moving on. It was one of those things that she thought about for hours at a time, yet she never came up with a viable reason for her determination. It was funny, if she was being perfectly honest with herself.
A lot of people in her position would have given up a long time ago, yet here she was, still alive and kicking.
"I'm fine," she gave a short nod to the question, restraining another sigh from sounding. Fine wasn't the right word for her condition, but it was all that she was willing to give up. Confiding in others and relying on people wasn't the thing she could so easily do again. If the two decided to stick together again, it would certainly be a process to get back to the way they had once been with each other. She would try her best, just as she had with everything else in her life. All of it was a steady effort, and Parker was nothing if not determined. No matter what was at stake.
Someone that she had been able to trust with every single fiber of her being. It almost seemed impossible, like it was too good to be true. Esra? After all this time? The two had been separated so long ago, how was it possible that they would run into each other? The world was so big, either one of them could have been across the globe at this point, yet here they were, once again right in front of each other.
They both had to have changed a lot, even if they still had the characteristics that made them so familiar. The thought of the infected that had just been trying to get at her seemed to be completely disregarded in her mind, as her judgement was clouded by her shock.
Truth be told, she didn't know what to say. Parker didn't know what to do. She had never been a rather touchy person in the past, so her first instinct wasn't to tackle him in a hug or touch him in any sort of way, but her body was as still as a stiff board.
Despite her mind being on overload, telling herself to do a million different things at once, it just wouldn't happen. Her body wouldn't listen to her mind, so she was left sitting there, feeling like an idiot.
Maybe it was the part of her that couldn't believe the fact that Esra and her had crossed paths once again. The part of her brain that had become far more cynical over the years, overshadowing the majority that had been nothing but bright eyed and optimistic.
But, what was so hard to believe about it when he continued to prove himself? His name, her name, his voice, - though it was a little different now - but now, the familiar words. The familiar tune. No, there was no way that wasn't him. With the disadvantage of not being able to confirm familiarity through facial features, it left her doubting his honesty, but there was no doubt in her mind now. Not after all of that.
If she was alive, even after being mauled by the infected time and time again, why was it so hard to believe that they found each other again? Each situation was a one in a million chance, and maybe, just maybe, Parker's luck was turning around once again.
Finally finding him, she wouldn't want to let go again. Even if her body was still fighting her mind, keeping her planted in her spot.
"It's been so long.." she whispered, voice still shaky and rough after such a long period of disuse. For once, a spark of luck seemed to find its way back into her life, and she didn't want to take it for granted, nor to push it away. For everything that had happened over the years, something good had been bound to happen. This.. was certainly a welcomed surprise. Finally, she found herself able to move, but she merely took ahold of the bat she had dropped by her side, gripping onto it tightly as she slowly moved herself up onto her knees. Just enough to reach out to Esra, moving her hand until it had made contact with his body, trailing it up until she had made contact with his head.
Well, at least she could only assume what she was feeling was his hair due to the texture. She traced her hand along it for a moment before patting down against it - something she had used to do. Normally it was in a teasing manner, but now it was just something she felt the need to do.
Like allowing a type of normalcy back into her life. Old habits die hard, and finding Esra again seemed to only bring some old things back up. God, did Parker desperately need normalcy. A sense of security, a sense of hope. Maybe someone she could finally trust, after so long.
"It's nice to see you again," she soon added, a heavy sigh slipping past her lips as she pushed herself up onto her feet. Get up, keep moving, that's what she had trained herself to do. Waiting like a sitting duck would only get her killed, even if moving constantly would eventually be the death of her. Her feet were sore, her eyelids felt heavy, her body felt sluggish, the churning, tight feeling in her stomach was uncomfortable, but she had to push on.
Truth be told, Parker didn't know why she had such a strong motivation to keep going on. Life was.. more or less miserable for her. But, maybe it was the locked up hope deep within her body that one day things would look up. Maybe a cure for the disease that plagued all of these flesh eating creatures, maybe a hope for civilization and order to be restored, or maybe it was something else. Merely an instinct for survival that kept pushing her on.
Miserable, yet still so willing to keep moving on. It was one of those things that she thought about for hours at a time, yet she never came up with a viable reason for her determination. It was funny, if she was being perfectly honest with herself.
A lot of people in her position would have given up a long time ago, yet here she was, still alive and kicking.
"I'm fine," she gave a short nod to the question, restraining another sigh from sounding. Fine wasn't the right word for her condition, but it was all that she was willing to give up. Confiding in others and relying on people wasn't the thing she could so easily do again. If the two decided to stick together again, it would certainly be a process to get back to the way they had once been with each other. She would try her best, just as she had with everything else in her life. All of it was a steady effort, and Parker was nothing if not determined. No matter what was at stake.
